I’m just freaking tired of waiting and waiting and I don’t even know why. I can probably type faster than anyone on the Blackberry and the amount of writing I do per month should probably be in the Guiness Book of world records.

Yet I don’t know why I do any of it. I struggle to pay my rent and bills every month. I continue to striggle as far as taking care of myself and family goes.

I trim my nails so that I can type faster. I learn shortcuts in whatever word processing program I’m using so that I can type even more. Still I feel like I’m missing something. What do I need to do to take my writting to another level. To realize my full potential.

There are a million things tpo write about and with time I plan to write about them all.

I continue looking for things that are fullfilling and keep finding that writing is the closest.

I’m going back to making myself a margarita and watching the game.

I’m heading out to a Christmas party right about now. I’m not sure if that’s even the correct politically correct title for such event. Is it a “Holiday” party, or a “Friendship” gathering? I don’t know.

I guess I’ll find out. Here I go.

Sometimes I have a hard time dealing with myself. Why? Because I’m freaking crazy. I’m nuts. I’m not even kidding.

I truly believe that there’s a thin line between creativeness and craziness. I don’t talk out loud to myself or anything like that, but I sure do think to myself a lot.

I very seldom have suicidal thoughts or the such, nothing above what the average person would think about, because, if we must face it, we all have thought about what it would be like to kill yourself. Especially after hearing someone has done it. We try to figure out what they were thinking.

But enough of that, my crazy thoughts are a little different. More in the “what if” realm. What if this happened? What if that happened? From there the thoughts get more elaborate by the moment, and sometimes they reach a good creative conclusion, or other times they get more confusing and never end at all.

I feel like sometimes I abuse my own body’s chemical release system. Like I manipulate whatever chemical gets released when one’s depressed, at will. Other times whatever chemical when one’s excited.

It takes me so long to focus sometimes, and I can’t help but to work on more than one thing at a time. I can’t just pay attention to one thing.

Now I don’t think I have ADD or anything like that, because I’m really not hyper, or unable to complete something, and my focus, when disciplined, is there.

I feel like I get bored easily. I get distracted, willingly. I’m a prisoner to my own procrastination. Just wanted to note what I’ve been noticing about me.

I fell in love.  Thirty one years it took, but I fell in love.  However this love is different.  It didn’t take thirty one years to love my wife.  I probably loved her before I was born.  This love is more of a passionate infatuation.  The culprit to have taken my heart, mind and body hostage?  Wine.

Yes, I know that was anti-climatic.  That wasn’t were I seem to be going, yet here I am.  In love with a beverage that has very little nutritional value.  Some abuse this love, and I can see why.  I’m not  speaking in alcoholic terms.  I’m speaking in the complexity of such drink.

Please, understand, I did not grow up in the most privileged of conditions.  The taste of Tang still lingers in my childhood nightmares.  It’s pretty sad when I realize the juices I used to drink, were not really juice at all.  Who would have thought that Kool-Aid doesn’t grow on trees.  I would have sworn differently growing up.

Yet, here I am.  Thirty one years of not understanding what wine was about.  I hated the way it tasted.  It was bitter and scorned.  What I failed to realize, it wasn’t the wine that was bitter.  It was my life.

Maybe I’m overly stating what my new-found passion is, but the truth is that now I understand.  I understand why some people love onion.  I don’t.  I understand why some people love.  I didn’t.

So again, here I am.  Learning about one of the oldest beverages in the world.  From the times of pre-recorded history, humans learned to make wine.  It didn’t take long.  I used to drink it just to get drunk.  Get a bottle and finish it in five minutes.  I didn’t understand the taste, or the headache the morning after.

I decided to give it a try.  A real, honest to goodness try.  It paid off.  I learned how wine is made.  The different types of wine.  The different methods of enjoyment.  What is wine?  I learned that.

Little by little I started appreciating the flavors.  The smells.  The complexity of such gift.  I found out a lot about me through wine.  Each bottle is different than the next, and the complexity and variety of each serving is pretty similar to my life.

I can taste beyond the bitterness.  I can smell beyond the alcohol.  I can uncover hidden flavors, which were always there, but now I can appreciate them.  My life is equally interesting, at least to me.  My life’s a bold Cabernet Sauvignon, sometimes.  Other times I’m as clear as a Chardonnay.  Others, I’m a sweet White Zinfandel.

Wine is a work of art.  It’s a painting dressed as a drink.  The colors, the shapes, they’re all there.  Opening the eyes, nose, taste buds.  Just like life.

Yeah, I’m still new in my relationship with wine, so I am hoping it turns out to be what I hope it will.  Now I understand a lot of things.  Those that abuse wine, do not understand it.  Those that abuse wine, do not love it.  Just like life.

This past week was filled with many challenges.  Some good, some bad, some still linger.  Trying to work against the current is always one of the most difficult tasks human beings are constantly presented with.  It seems the harder I try the harder it gets.

The current pulls me under and downstream.  I must keep swimming to barely stay breathing.

Procrastination doesn’t mean that you won’t do anything at all.  Procrastination could also include starting something and not finishing it.  Here I’ll try to give the top ten reasons I think I might be a chronic procrastinator.

1) Lack of Motivation

2) Putting things off – I’ll finish this list later.

The irony?  What are the odds that a beer truck driver drives drunk?  Apparently pretty high, or at least drunk.

Here’s the story.

During his first press conference as President elect, Barack Obama gracefully showed that he’s no Sarah Palin as he skips a stupid question from the media.  Poor Candy Crowley from CNN was at the receiving end of the dismissal, and it had to do more from the question not being a clear one from the beginning.

This show’s Barack is not willing to just talk for the sake of answering a question, and instead listens, attempts to understand, and if it’s not clear, he’ll move on to the next reporter with a question warranting an answer.

Here’s the video:

I’m not really sure if my vote counts, but I know it makes me feel good to at least feel like it does.  Elections are complicated and the system is way too much to get to know.  It is simply an ideology of democracy.  Most people vote their hearts and not their minds.  Is that a good thing?

To be honest I didn’t understand what some of the ballot prepositions were about, still I voted as much as I could based on what I understood.  Understanding should be a major factor in making decisions, unfortunately there’s no time or interest on my part.  I just try to go with my gut on most of the decisions I make.